Cracks in the Sidewalk
by 1957
Summary: AU. Naruto's life revolves around music, and he hopes to start a band. Sasuke is a transfer student with a knack for composition and a secret love for rock n' roll. SasuNaru GaaNaru NejiNaru
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've wanted to do something like a band fic for a really long time now, and my newfound love for the oldies like The Beatles and Bob Dylan will hopefully bring an interesting twist to the story (not your typical metal/visual-kei/punk band fic). There's also a good dose of indies music in here. This story really revolves around the music involved, because I think that most music fans, especially those who are aspiring to make a band of their own, have really powerful personal connections to specific songs and bands. I hope that a lot of you will go and download some of these songs and listen to them (if you don't have them already) while reading this story. The setting is also in America, though I understand that a lot of American/British artists are popular in Japan. I just didn't feel too comfortable with working around the language barrier. I would have written Japanese bands in, but, of course, I don't understand Japanese and my inability to understand the lyrics sort of puts a damper on things. I'll definitely try to put in footnotes whenever the musical allusions get too specific. The first chapter is slow (as expected) but I hope that people will stick with it. I would also appreciate any critiques and criticisms, especially about the actual writing itself (clarity, grammar, typos, etc).

**Disclaimer:** Naruto and associated characters belong to Kishimoto. All lyrics used belong to the original artists.

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**Cracks in the Sidewalk**  
**part i**

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Bob Dylan started singing at seven o'clock sharp. His rough voice filled every nook and cranny of the messy little room that was his concert hall. Clothes, mostly brightly-colored and smelling of artificial food flavoring, covered the faded carpet. Ethereal predawn light streamed into the room through the blinds, dancing to "Subterranean Homesick Blues." A lump on the bed groaned, a clump of blonde hair poking out of the orange sheets.

_Johnny's in the basement  
Mixing up the medicine  
I'm on the pavement  
Thinking about the government_

"Just ten more minutes, Bob," muttered a drowsy voice, as a hand snaked out from beneath the covers and slammed on the snooze button. The lump settled back into the mattress, snuggling into a fluffy pillow. After a few minutes, the blonde boy kicked back his covers in frustration and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

Naruto hadn't felt this restless since the time he accidentally popped three adderall capsules in one go. He hadn't slept much last night except for a few blinks after the first glimmers of sunshine showed. He had just gotten to sleep when Bob Dylan piped in with his sandpaper singing, preaching pretty images of underground LSD factories and gas station vandals. The world spun dramatically as he closed his eyes, pictures of drug dealers in coonskin caps flashed under his eyelids, real enough to touch. Folk music twisted itself around his brain, as the interrupted song continued playing in his head. Naruto groaned again and rubbed his sore eyes. He felt like a speed addict.

Ten minutes passed quickly as he alternated between burning consciousness and Dylan's idealistic sixties counterculture world. Just as he felt like he was settling back into deep sleep, the radio chimed in agin, this time blaring The Beatles. The upbeat instrumentals brought Naruto nosediving back into the real world. He glared at the clock as presto violin quartets sped through measures of perfectly pronounced alto notes. "Eleanor Rigby" chopped grimly through the air as Naruto rolled out of bed. He grimaced as he opened his raw eyes to search for a shirt. He slipped on a simple orange shirt stuffed between the bed and the desk and slid into a pair of holey thriftshop stonewashed jeans. He pulled on his socks in time to catch the second round of chorus.

_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?  
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?_

He belted out the angelic harmonies in perfect pitch, his own voice carrying a hint of the boyish perfection of the Beatles. He sang along as he sliced a bagel in half and slathered a towering mound of cream cheese onto both halves. He figured he was making progress as far as health was concerned since he had quit the margarine a few months ago. He quickly swallowed a bite of his breakfast in order to catch the last round of heavenly choral fireworks.

_Ah, look at all the lonely people  
Ah, look at all the lonely people_

Although he couldn't match the nostalgic purity of The Beatles' vocals, he was still undoubtably a good singer. His voice, strong and powerful and deeply emotional, projected easily into the apartment. It was a nice-sounding voice, though a bit rough around the edges. However, it was unpolished in a charming way, like grain on a hardwood floor--natural, homey. It was like a young Bob Dylan sitting in his armchair, spinning smoke from his cigarette, and singing about rainy day woman number one. Raw and sincere, without any of the fizzles and pops of studio training, but still with the luster of someone completely in love with music.

The Beatles finished up their heart wrenching single just as Naruto finished his cream cheese-soaked bagel. The radio announcer bid him a good morning and ran through the trivial details of the day–weather and traffic mostly. Naruto listened with half an ear as he cleaned up the kitchen, washing the plates and filing the silverware away. Then he went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

He examined his large blue eyes, whites covered with a million microscopic reddish veins. He made a face at their bloodshot state and splashed his face with cold water. He ran a hand through the messy blonde mop of his hair, tugging discontentedly at a few locks that stuck out rebelliously. He gave himself a quick once over in the mirror. He was small for his age, a little shorter and thinner than most sixteen-year-old boys. He pinched his own cheek, distorting the shape of his feline face. He had long since hated the sleek, feminine features of his face, on which not a single whisker grew. He would have much preferred a rugged, stubbled look, with a brooding brow and sullen mouth. Instead, he was something of an exotic beauty, smooth tanned skin stretched over high cheekbones, doe-like eyes, and pillowed lips. Androgyny radiated from his slim body and genderless face. He sighed. He had hoped for Brad Pitt, but got a clean-shaven Beck instead--every woman's man and every man's woman.

Finishing up, he grabbed his backpack and walkman, and walked out the door, ghosting along to "Between the Bars," the broken voice of Elliott Smith pulsing into his brain.

_Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine  
Keep you apart, deep in my heart  
Separate from the rest, where I like you the best  
And keep the things you forgot_

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Walking to school was always enjoyable for Naruto. He would leave an hour before classes started, taking his time down the cracked sidewalks and gravel streets. He would kick his converse sneakers against rocks as he whistled along to his songs. Sometimes he would stop midstep and close his eyes, frozen like a statue, savoring a particular line of a song. Sometimes he would walk along with his hands poised as if holding an invisible guitar, fingers moving against silent strings, head bobbing up and down in time to the beat. Sometimes people would stop and stare at him, perplexed by his absorption in the music. Sometimes older men and women would smile as he sang the chorus of a Rolling Stones Song.

Sometimes classmates would glare at him and whisper in hushed voices.

Naruto had long since given up on chasing girls like a normal sixteen-year-old. They all thought he was disgusting. At first he thought it was a physical defect, a deformity, but then he realized that it was something much deeper and darker, something about his core that was utterly repuslive. It had hurt when he was thirteen, standing with a handful of hand-picked wildflowers in his hands in front of a girl he had adored, and being laughed at. It had hurt when he was fourteen, standing three hours outside of a coffee shop in winter, and never getting the date he had been asked on. But now he didn't care.

Sometimes he would see a few girls walking to school together and sing Radiohead's "Creep" in a biting and sarcastic voice to them, making them squeal with disgust.

_You float like a feather  
In a beautiful world  
I wish I was special  
You're so fucking special_

Sometimes that made him feel better.

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"Hey, shrimp," called someone, rudely interrupting John Lennon's melancholic singing. Naruto, intending to ignore the disturbance, kept walking, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He concentrated on the half-muttering, half-singing voice of Lennon instead, and thought about all the people he was born too late to meet.

"I said," came the impatient voice, "hey shrimp." Still obsessed with listening to the deceased singer, Naruto didn't have time to react when a hand pushed him roughly against a row of metal lockers. The clang of flesh against hollow steel boxes resounded through the hallway. The blonde rubbed at the spot where his ribs collided against jagged locks, muttering under his breath. Looking around, he noted that no one else seemed to have witnessed the act. All was normal.

Picking himself up and straightening his belongings, he proceeded toward his first class as usual, now even more intent on the music pumping out of his headphones. Lennon seemed to sympathize with him as he rasped and lulled "Working Class Hero" into Naruto's ear.

_As soon as you're born they make you feel small  
By giving you no time instead of it all  
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all_

"Jeez," sneered the larger boy, "who listens to walkmans these days anyway?" He grabbed the little black machine from Naruto's pocket, ripping the headphones off of the blonde's ears. Naruto reached up to take his prized possession back. The other boy kept it out of his reach easily. "Let's see what the shrimp keeps listening to, eh?"

"Give that back," snapped Naruto, reaching again for his walkman.

"Oh, so the shrimp has a temper," jeered the other boy. "Come on, be charitable, I just want a listen."

The larger boy placed the headphones to his ears, a look of malicious glee reflecting in his eyes. He grinned devilishly at Naruto, his face cracking into what seemed like two halves. He was a muscular boy with average features and curly brown hair piled messily on the top of his flat head. Tall and well built, he was almost certainly an athlete. With an annoying grin and an irritating manner, he was disliked by most. John Lennon seemed to sense this about him, and kept singing with even more contempt than before.

_They hurt you at home and they hit you at school  
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool  
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules_

"What is this crap?" exclaimed the boy as he guffawed at Lennon's folk tunes. "Jeez, you're behind the times, don't you have any rap or hip hop?"

"It's John Lennon," ground out Naruto, fists clenched tightly, ready to punch the boy in front of him.

"Never heard of him," drawled the boy, his words grating on Naruto's nerves, "Jesus, this stuff is ancient, no wonder you're a loser."

_Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV  
And you think you're so clever and classless and free  
But still fucking peasants as far as I can see_

"John Lennon is classic," said the blonde slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully so as to not lose his temper and scream it into the halls. He knew from experience the dangers of fighting back. "He defies time and trend. He will always be 'in.'"

"As if," chortled the boy. "This stuff is crap, and so's this walkman. I can't believe anyone in the twenty-first century still uses a tape deck." He threw the machine onto the linoleum floor, the black music box landing with a heartbreaking clatter. The tape flew out of the deck and landed a few feet away from the boys. The larger boy laughed. Naruto fumed and turned a startling shade of red from both anger and humiliation.

_There's room at the top they are telling you still  
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill  
If you want to be like the folks on the hill_

"See you around shrimp," called the boy from over his shoulder as he retreated down the hall and disappeared around a corner. For a long moment Naruto was motionless. He stared at the half-shined, half-scratched faux marble of the floor and at his abused mix tape, ejected from the walkman from force of impact. A sliver of black tape stuck out of the cassette, streaming behind the body like a comet. Then, with a sigh, Naruto began to gather his things. He picked up his fallen backpack. He retrieved the walkman from the floor, checking to make sure that it still worked. He tinkered with the buttons and batteries, and decided that the music box had survived the fall. Finally, he reached for his cassette, only to find that someone else had already picked it up.

He was a strange-looking boy, though, not in the ugly way. He was simply otherworldly in his beauty--a kind of Martian belligerence running beneath peaceful white skin. Coal eyes peered down at him from a straight nose. Hair, lustrous and raven-black, framed his face, throwing everything into high contrast, from the delicate hollows of his eyes to the dip below his full lower lip. He was tall, though slender, and had an air of false delicacy about him. His gaze could have sliced steel. Naruto shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

"Here," said the boy, handing the cassette over. Naruto took it and thanked him.

"Forget about what that idiot said," said the boy. "John Lennon will never go out of style."

_If you want to be a hero well just follow me  
If you want to be a hero well just follow me_

---------------------

"So you like John Lennon?" asked Naruto, taking a big gulp of his milk. The sun filtered through the broad leaves of the maple they sat beneath, tinting the world a lush spring green. The soil was still moist from the showers the night before. Naruto liked thinking of nights when it was just him, a Cat Power disc, and the soft rain that falls outside of his window, sounding like natural static on the shingles of his roof. He smiled as he thought of those quiet nights of singing along to "Werewolf," the rough southern voice of Chan Marshall ringing like a mellow piano in the night.

"Yeah, I guess," replied the boy whose name was Sasuke. He was a new student, having just arrived a week ago. He was alone, having left his family behind. He had been from Seattle, the perpetually weeping city wrapped in rain clouds and mist. Now he was in Virginia, all mountains and hills, grey Appalachian hovering over the shoulders of its residents who were doped up with peace. "I always liked Paul McCartney better, though."

"Yeah, he's okay," agreed Naruto as he picked away at his sandwich, "But The Beatles were more kick ass than both of them combined. It's too bad they had to split though. Don't see why they couldn't all just get along."

He paused to take another swig of chocolate milk, and savored the feeling of the cool liquid sliding down his throat. "If I had a band, I'd do it right the first time. I'd get a bunch of buddies whom I could count on forever. It'd be great; sticking together, writing songs, performing. My band would take over the world!"

Sasuke concealed a snort as he sipped from his water bottle. His movements had a certain elegance to them. Simple and concise, never a single muscle out of place, like machinery only with beautiful marble skin overtop the wires of his limbs. He too held a certain femininity about him, but it only reached as far as his slender figure and fair skin. There was a certain coldness and pessimism in him that made him unapproachable and painfully solitary; a fierceness around him that made him almost frightening. He was dominating–fond of submission in others, fond of being correct, fond of having his own way. It was the difference between his androgyny and Naruto's--a simple matter of mentality, a subtle difference in atmosphere.

"Do you even play any instruments?" asked Sasuke.

"No," answered Naruto, turning a little red, "But that's the point of a band, right? You don't have to be able to do everything. You have to trust in your band mates to take care of the things that you can't do."

"But what can you do?" spat Sasuke. He regarded Naruto with a judging look, eyes cold and calculating. The blonde shivered under his scrutiny.

"I can sing," said Naruto defensively.

"I don't think you're vocalist material," countered Sasuke smugly, something cold emerging within him. Naruto gave the boy a look, wondering about his change in personality. It was chilling, as if something lived beneath his porcelain skin, spiny and crawling along the tendons of his body. Something on the cool outside had been scratched away to reveal a freezing under layer.

"Hey! What do you mean?" demanded Naruto, angrily slamming his milk carton down onto the wooden picnic table.

"You don't have any charisma," replied Sasuke cooly. "And you're short."

"Like hell I don't have any charisma!" snapped Naruto, pouting, "And how would you know? You've only been here for a day."

Sasuke shrugged, "How come that guy was pushing you around?"

The blonde turned strawberry and looked away, "None of your business."

There was a silence between the two.

"And I'm not short," added Naruto with an indignant nod of his blonde head. A damp wind swept through the abandoned area, rustling the freshly-sprouted leaves. The woods of Virginia squeezed around the rear of the school, providing a convenient escape for bored students-a slight shortcoming in design. The trees hovered tall and majestic above the two as the birds chirped away, devouring their worms and collecting their twigs. Naruto had grabbed Sasuke at the beginning of the lunch period and snuck out of the building, slipping quietly into the miniature forest. They had walked blindly, independent of any trail or path, until they came upon a solitary picnic table.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked Sasuke, packing away his empty water bottle. He had allowed himself to be half-dragged into the forest without protest, preferring to be in the quiet encolsure of the wilderness instead of the bustle of materialistic people. He hadn't found any of the students interesting, simply a bunch of self-assured and cocky country girls and boys tied up in last season's clothes. Somewhat dumb and radio-dependent, their squeals and blabbering gave him headaches. He looked over at Naruto who didn't appear to be much different than the rest--clear-eyed and detached from the rest of the world wearing clothes from the sales racks. Simple-minded, he supposed he could also say, but something about him radiated something more. Sasuke decided it must have been the music; music, the great civilizer; he gave a smirk.

Naruto shrugged and ignored the question, pulling out his walkman from his backpack. "Do you listen to Elliott Smith?" he asked, plugging in the headphones into the machine. Sasuke grunted, unhappy to be ignored. "I really like his stuff. Really mellow and soft and poetic. I'd give anything to write songs like his." He sifted through the front pocket of his back, shuffling a dozen cassette tapes, checking their tiny labels for the right tape.

"Do you write songs?" asked Sasuke. He looked straight at Naruto, obsidian eyes boring into Naruto's flesh. Sasuke did not socialize often, and he found being vocal odd. He looked turned his gaze to the trees and blamed his talkativeness on the fresh air and lack of suicide in the newspapers. He scowled as he remembered the city. The city and his family.

"Well, sort of," said Naruto as he found the mix tape he had been looking for, "I can write poetry, I guess, but I can't write music at all. Well, nothing original anyway. So basically I've just got a bunch of lyrics lying around with no music for them." He popped the tape in and closed the deck with a click. The walkman was old but reliable, the black paint having been chipped away at corners. Scratches littered the front of the box and dark spots appeared where he had held the machine for hours on end. "Do you write songs, Sasuke?"

The dark-haired boy shrugged, "Never gave it much thought."

Naruto cracked a grin, "Aw that's too bad, we could have made a cool band together!"

"I thought you only wanted buddies you could count on in your band," said Sasuke, a dash of bitterness in his voice. His voice was deep, but not robust, yet his commanding tone made him seem much older than what he really was.

"I like you," replied Naruto simply. "I don't know why, though. Maybe it's because you're the only one who ever listens to good music here. Maybe because your hairstyle is sort of cool. Though, your personality could use some work." He stuck his tongue out for effect, and put an earbud in. "Hey, you want to give him a listen?"

Sasuke shrugged and took the offered earbud and placed it in his right ear. Naruto pressed play and a stream of music flooded through the tiny headphones. Elliott Smith's smooth, almost womanly, voice brought soft watercolor images to mind as he sang his tragic lyrics. Closing his eyes, Sasuke could see himself waiting under the splotched patterns of a stained glass window, colors running into each other like blotches of paint until they formed a continuum of black. Wispy lyrics painted vague and surreal scenes in the air.

_He's pleased to meet you underneath the horse  
In the cathedral with the glass stained black  
Singing sweet high notes that echo back  
To destroy their master_

Sasuke looked over at Naruto, but found him already lost in the illusion of the music, drifting lightly over an ocean of immeasurable depth.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Yay for the second chapter! Thanks everyone for your reviews on the previous chapter. Please review! Thanks!

**Chapter warnings: **I do not support the smoking of cigarettes. Unless if you're an imaginary ninja, please do not smoke cigarettes.

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**Cracks in the Sidewalk  
part ii  
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Naruto watched Sasuke smoke a cigarette on the corner of an abandoned cemetery. Streams of smoke puffed out of his mouth and swirled into the sky where it then merged with the wind. Naruto had always loved watching people smoke. He liked how the cigarettes jutted out of a person's mouth, held together by a pair of lips as lighters lit the tip. He liked how the white-grey smoke looked like souls flying out of bodies. Sometimes he wished that he smoked just so that he could have something to do with his hands as he stood alone during the long lunch hours. He figured that it was better he didn't, though. He would just get lonely when he realized there wasn't anyone to help him light his cigarettes. Secretly he wanted someone who would light his cigarettes for him when he forgot his matches. The intimacy and understanding of the motion touched him.

"You want a smoke?" asked Sasuke, exhaling. Naruto blushed for a second, remembering how he had wanted to light Sasuke's cigarette for him.

"Nah," declined Naruto, with an awkward half-smile.

"That's right," snapped Sasuke before taking another draw. "Vocalists need to take care of their voices. I wouldn't have given you a cigarette even if you had wanted one."

"How considerate of you," replied the blonde sarcastically. "I thought you said I wasn't vocalist material."

Sasuke shrugged. "Who knows."

The day had turned cloudy suddenly. Skies marbled with clouds provided a stark backdrop for the dark silhouettes of the gravestones. Grass, still yellow from the snowfalls of winter, seemed even more withered in the light. It was getting colder. The winder was getting sharper. The two of them stood silent, one smoking, one dreaming.

"Sing something," prompted Sasuke. "Let's see what kind of voice is going to 'rule the world.'"

Naruto was stunned. He hesitated, "I've never performed for anyone before." It was true, he hadn't. He had always been alone with either disinterested adults or disinterested children. It had always been him and a slew of decapitated voices ringing in his ear. He had been alone since he was little, his stomach kept full by an invisible bank account in some far off land. His diapers had been changed by a ghost woman who had no face or voice or tenderness. His abcs had been taught to him by Big Bird on the television screen. His head still echoed with the questions of his four-year-old self, 'What is a mother? What is a family?' And later, when he started attending school, 'Why can't I be like them?'

"Well I guess you'll just have to get over that," said Sasuke curtly. "And you're making me nervous just standing around and fidgeting like that."

Naruto cleared his throat. "What do you want to hear?"

"Whatever," replied Sasuke, waving his cigarette around impatiently, "Just pick a short one. I don't want to stand here all day."

"Okay," Naruto said, clearing his throat again. "Um, how about some more Elliott Smith? You liked him right?"

The black-haired boy gave another wave of his hand.

_Wish you gave me your number  
Wish I could call you today, just to hear a voice  
I got a long way to go  
I'm getting further away_

Naruto's voice reminded Sasuke of a glass sculpture he had snatched from a pedestal of his Seattle home. He had been lugging his bags down the winding stairs when the expensive sculpture caught his eye. Iced tubes of glass twisted around each other, weaving and looping, supported by an intricately carved column. He stopped for a moment to inspect it. Hand-blown, he was sure. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the slightly rough texture of the surface. He took it entirely on whim, carrying it in his lap through the entire flight. Looking at the sculpture that now sat on his dinner table made him feel good, as if he were home. It was not because it reminded him home. It was because he felt as if some part of his existence had finally been justified by stealing that sculpture. Naruto's voice gave him the shivers.

_If I didn't know the difference living alone'd probably be okay  
It wouldn't be lonely  
I got a long way to go  
I'm getting further away_

Naruto had been nervous in the beginning, unsure if he was actually as great of a singer as he had always believed himself to be. He was afraid that someone from school would stroll by and spot him singing. Mostly, though, he was terrified of sharing such a large part of his heart. He was used to being alone, isolated, with nothing but his records. Singing was how he coped with the tiny wasteland that was his apartment. Someone would sing to him, and he would sing back, almost as if in conversation. It was what kept him sane. It was what kept him safe.

_A lot of hours to occupy, it was easy when I didn't know you yet  
Things I'd have to forget  
But I better be quiet now  
I'm tired of wasting my breath  
Carrying on and getting upset_

Sasuke knew that Naruto was going to make it big since the second he opened his voice. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the thrill that shot down his spine that tingled. Perhaps it was the buzz he got in his head that was stronger than any cigarette smoke. But mostly, it was just the feeling of intruding, the feeling of being a voyeur in a lady's lingerie fitting room. For the first time in his life, Sasuke understood the meaning of the phrase 'sex on legs.' It was Naruto's voice. He swore under his breath as he realized he was developing a hard on.

_Maybe I got a problem, but that's not what I wanted to say  
I'd prefer to say nothing.  
I got a long way to go  
I'm getting further away._

Naruto's eyes slid closed as he hit a few high notes. He concentrated on the lyrics, and remembered the first time he had ever heard the song. He had been sitting in a corner of his apartment, with a CD popped into his stereo system, the CD booklet of "Figure 8 sprawled over his lap. He remembered the bitterness in his heart as he read the lyrics, a stone in his stomach, a sadness in his brain. He forced himself to laugh that night just so that he wouldn't cry. He would have cried in front of Sasuke if only all of his tears hadn't gone to his voice, dripping over the notes, salting over the words.

_Had a dream as an army man with an order just to march in my place  
While a dead enemy screams in my face  
But I better be quiet now  
I'm tired of wasting my breath  
Carrying on, not over it yet_

Sasuke closed his eyes, and willed himself to calm down. The sun was setting. The sky was darkening. "Are you done yet?" he said, interrupting Naruto mid-note, "It's getting cold."

Naruto blushed and looked down at his feet. "Um, yeah," he muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice, "Sorry." He kicked a few rocks. One hit a gravestone. Sasuke sighed in annoyance.

"Jesus, what are you? A fucking girl?" he grumbled.

"What the fuck, man?" shouted Naruto, "You asked me to sing, sorry if I sucked."

"Did I say you sucked?" snapped Sasuke, "I said I was getting fucking cold."

This pacified Naruto, "So you didn't think I sucked?" he asked hopefully.

"You're not bad," admitted Sasuke reluctantly. "Aren't your parents going to be pissed at you for staying out?"

Naruto offered a lonely, lopsided grin, "Don't got any."

Sasuke didn't act surprised. Instead he took out his pack of cigarettes, freshly opened since ten minutes ago. He was about to draw another one out of the carton before he realized he had just finished one a few minutes ago. He stared at the pack for a moment, as if contemplating something. He put the pack away. "Come over to my place then."

"What?" blinked Naruto, shocked, "Why?" He had never been invited to anyone else's house before. He had never attended a sleepover. A study session. Or borrowed sugar from a neighbor.

Sasuke shrugged, "Listen to some music. Kill some time." As if deciding the situation was more stressful than he had first thought, he reached again for his carton of cigarettes and pulled a stick of tobacco from the pack. He figured he was making progress as far as health went. He had left his two-year love affair with clove cigarettes for Camels. He remembered showing his brother his stack of Camel Cash before he left. His brother had asked him what he could buy with two hundred C-Notes. Sasuke had his eye set on a useless gold-plated gun. It was just for kicks; something to work toward–a gold gun and lung cancer.

_"Too bad they don't offer iron lungs," retorted his brother wryly, flipping through the catalogue._

"Sounds cool," Naruto said, albeit suspiciously, "Hey, can I light your cigarette?"

Sasuke tossed Naruto his lighter, not bothering to ask any questions, "Don't burn me."

"Shut up," snapped Naruto, carefully lighting the end of the cigarette, one hand cupping the flame to keep it out of the wind. He had always thought that cupping the flame was the most intimate of the gestures, like lovers using their hands to hide their kisses from the public. He felt Sasuke's warmth from his position and blushed. He pulled away the lighter, satisfied.

"Maybe you should cut back on those cigarettes. You're only sixteen. No point in smoking a pack a day when you can't even buy them legally yet," offered Naruto, handing back the lighter, their fingers touching casually in the process.

Sasuke grunted in response and headed toward his apartment.

-------------------------------

Sasuke lived in the same area as Naruto, his apartment complex sitting across a large, empty field. The field was flat and even, good for soccer and football. In the summer, children would come out of their stuffy apartments and run around the field, playing games and frisbee. Sometimes teenage girls would set up their volleyball nets outside and run about in their bathing suits. But at night the field was deserted. Children sat sullenly at the dinner tables. Girls chatted noisily away on their telephones. Naruto enjoyed walking the field then, pacing the width of the empty land with nothing but his walkman keeping him company. His strides would go in time with the drum and base lines and his fingers would snap the beat. Above him would be the stars, glittering happily at him. He would always play "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" at least once.

Sasuke's apartment was well-furnished with expensive-looking furniture. It had been purchased for him by his parents, though a bit reluctantly. An interior designer had been called in before he had left from Seattle. Sasuke imagined the posh designer stepping into the little apartment, his black ensemble standing stark against his pale face. His expression would have been one of disgust, wondering what he could do with a depraved southern flat with eggshell walls that he couldn't paint over. _Rented space_, his mother would have told him, _please don't do anything permanent_. It had turned out a little too Victorian for Sasuke's tastes, but Naruto thought that it was the most beautiful room he had ever seen.

"Holy shit," gaped Naruto, plopping unceremoniously onto the sofa, "How did you afford all this stuff?"

"Parents," came the frank reply. "What do you want to eat?"

"Do you have ramen?" asked Naruto brightly, his face lighting up like a lightbulb. "I love ramen "

Sasuke threw him a look, "I meant food, not piss in a bowl."

"Hey " shouted Naruto, "Don't insult ramen What did it ever do to you?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and sauntered into the kitchen. "We're eating pasta," he said decisively, "You're helping. Put on a record before you come into the kitchen."

Naruto pouted, but jogged over to the exquisite stereo system. The entire set was silver and clear plastic, with the inner workings of the CD player visible from the outside. He gawked at the machines for a moment before turning to deal with Sasuke's mammoth music collection. The collection spanned several shelves and drawers. Naruto felt as if he were in heaven.

Sasuke's tastes were diverse, ranging from classical to jazz to metal. He had music from every country--Japan, China, Iceland, Denmark, Spain, France, the list went on. Naruto slowly picked through the collection, reading each track carefully, his hands trembling with excitement. He saw many artists that he had never listened to: Death Cab for Cutie, Dir en Grey, Carbon Leaf, Panic At the Disco, The Unicorns; and many that he listened to religiously: Neutral Milk Hotel, Cat Power, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Doors, Interpol, The Velvet Underground, The Sex Pistols. His head spun from the names. He finally settled on a classic: The Who.

He put the disc into the CD player and went into the kitchen to help Sasuke prepare dinner, feet dancing along to the opening of "Baba O'Riley." Sasuke was chopping onions on the counter, miraculously not tearing the slightest. He handed the knife to Naruto, blade first, a crass gesture.

"What took you so long?" asked Sasuke, drying his hands. He checked on the boiling pasta, making sure they wouldn't overcook. He turned his attention to some mushrooms.

"Your music collection is incredible, man," raved Naruto, chopping onions zealously, eyes watering a bit from the chemicals. "I thought I had died and gone to heaven."

Sasuke shrugged as he opened a can of sauce, can opener grating against the metal. He hated canned sauces, but he didn't have the energy to spend an hour brewing his own. He thought longingly of the chef in Seattle--one of the only redeeming qualities of his life there.

"Ouch " exclaimed Naruto, holding his finger and wincing. Along his finger ran a large red gash that dripped blood languidly onto the floor. Naruto stuck his finger into his mouth, trying to quell the bleeding. Sasuke rolled his eyes at the blonde's clumsiness.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath. Grabbing a napkin, he walked over and grabbed the finger from Naruto's mouth. Pressing the paper napkin against the wound, he then reached down and wiped the floor of the crimson liquid. Naruto blushed furiously for making such trouble. Rummaging around the cabinets, Sasuke found a box of band-aids, and threw a small one at Naruto.  
"Sorry," apologized Naruto as he wrapped the plastic bandage around his forefinger. He winced as he dealt with the cut, and stared sadly at his bandaged finger. Sasuke rolled his eyes again and sighed at the other boy's antics. Reaching over impatiently, he took the other's hand and placed a light kiss on the damaged appendage. This surprised Naruto.

"What?" exclaimed Naruto, pulling away abruptly, "Whoa What do you think you're doing?"

Sasuke shrugged cooly as if nothing had happened. "Stopped your finger from hurting, didn't it?"

"You might want to watch that sort of thing here," began Naruto, scratching his head awkwardly, "I don't know how it's like in Seattle, but if someone did that here, he'd be considered gay." He paused as he thought about his own words. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," he added hastily.

There was a long, oppressive silence as Sasuke continued cooking. The rhythmic sounds of the kitchen knife chopping away fit into beat with the song.

"You aren't gay are you?" asked Naruto, tentatively.

Sasuke froze mid-chop, knife poised over the head of a mushroom. He then sighed deeply again, and searched his pockets for his cigarettes. He drew out one stick quickly, almost desperately, and stuck it into his mouth. His hands went back down again, searching the pockets for the lighter. His hands traveled about directionlessly, patting his hips and thighs, apparently forgetting where he had put his lighter. He finally found the little red lighter. Nothing expensive, just a cheap gas station lighter.

"Hey," called Naruto, holding his hand out to catch lighter. Sasuke looked at him hard for a long second, scrutinizing his every feature. His eyes, clear and honest and afraid. His cheeks, scarred and smooth. His mouth, soft and expressive. He looked at Naruto and searched his face for things. Things like dishonesty, treachery, greed, insincerity. He came up empty. He relaxed.

Sasuke tossed Naruto the lighter.

Naruto caught the object in one fluid movement. Then, slowly, the two gravitated toward each other, meeting halfway--two halves making a whole. The blonde boy flicked open the lighter, a singular flame shooting up from his hand. Sasuke leaned forward, accepting the flame, attracting it toward him with the presence of paper and tobacco. Naruto cupped the flame and cigarette union with his right hand, fingers slightly brushing Sasuke's smooth cheek.

Sasuke inhaled deeply, the sound of smoke entering his lungs audible in the silence between the first and second tracks on the CD. Then he exhaled. A massive sigh that seemed to have been kept inside his body for so long that he had forgotten he had it in him. A steady stream of smoke sliced through the air.

And "Behind Blue Eyes" started playing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the reviews so far! Please keep reviewing!

**Warnings:** Smoking, drinking, and sex with people you don't know are all bad ideas. Don't do them unless if you are a character in this fanfic.

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**Cracks in the Sidewalk  
part iii**  
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Naruto climbed the stairs to Sasuke's apartment singing "Love Me Do" and swinging his arms. His fingers snapped to the beat as the harmonica in his walkman started its solo. He smiled happily as he thought of last night; eating dinner with Sasuke on the intricately styled dining table, washing dishes and having a miniature water fight, and listening to bands he had never heard of while Sasuke smoked his cigarettes and wrote his homework. He had learned things about Sasuke that night too. He learned that Sasuke had an older brother, that his family was from Japan, and that he spoke Japanese fluently. But mostly, he liked just sitting down with another human being, watching slightly-yellowed fingers moving, coal-black eyes blinking, and heavily-guarded heart beating.

Sasuke was at the top of the steps, smoking his morning cigarette, and making a point to blow the smoke at a neighbor who was leaving for work. He had an mp3 player tucked neatly in his pocket, white lines transferring the mournful tunes of Cat Power to his ears. The neighbor, a middle-aged man in a cheap dress shirt and pants, glared at him and muttered something under his breath. Sasuke shot him an even more intense glare, and sipped black coffee from his mug. He remembered a boy with long, black hair back in Seattle commenting on how he lived like a forty-year-old balding man. The boy wasn't a friend though. He was simply another wealthy son of a wealthy family. They hadn't pretended to put on airs of friendship.

"Damn," swore Naruto, "You live like a forty-year-old balding man."

Sasuke ignored him and finished his coffee.

"Whatcha listening to?" asked Naruto cheerfully as he flashed a huge grin.

"Cat Power," replied Sasuke simply as he walked back inside his apartment to wash his empty mug. Naruto skipped into his house close behind him.

"What song?" asked Naruto, chattering away. He poked at a sculpture that sat in the middle of the dining table, the dull glass smooth to the touch.

"'Werewolf,'" answered Sasuke with a hint of annoyance. He wasn't used to small talk, or any talk for that matter. His honesty last night surprised him, his ease with the other boy frightened him. There was something about Naruto that made him feel a little easier, a little lighter, a little more virtuous. He scoffed at his thoughts as he smashed the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray. He stared at the cigarette butt. Cigarettes, he thought, only the beginning of his dependencies. He gave a lopsided half-smile and curled his fingers over the his forearm. Suddenly reality seemed too oppressive.

"Oh I love that song!" exclaimed Naruto, a twinkle of sadness in his blue eyes.

"Why don't you put it on?" said Sasuke casually, washing his mug.

"Huh?" replied Naruto, perplexed, "What about school?" It was Friday.

"Screw school," said Sasuke, "I didn't come here for schooling." He remembered his former school, one of the best schools in the country. Stiff, freshly-pressed blazers and children speaking in feigned British accents flashed in his mind. He had been a golden boy there, well-liked, well-known, well-received. He had hated Seattle.

"But you did all of your homework last night," protested Naruto, walking into the kitchen.

"Yeah," said Sasuke, "and you didn't do any of yours." He hung the mug up to dry.

"What are we going to do?" asked Naruto, hopping onto the counter. The idea of not going to school seemed pleasant to him. He could use a personal snow day, "We can't just walk around, the police will make us go to school."

"Who said we're walking anywhere?" snapped Sasuke, hopping to sit next to Naruto. "We're driving."

"What?" sputtered Naruto, "You have a car?"

Sasuke merely shrugged, the key of his silver Toyota Prius sitting heavily in his pocket. His brother had bought it for him on his sixteenth birthday, the sleek little car shining in the driveway with an oversized bow sitting on top. He remembered how his classmates had gushed over the machine, listing off the names of people who owned them. Leonardo Dicaprio, Cameron Diaz, Billy Joel, rich people with images to support. _Drive hybrids,_ they had probably thought, _befriend the environment and the public_. He never drove his car to school again.

"Come on," said Sasuke, hopping down from his seat, "Let's go."

"Wait!" shouted Naruto, "Where are we going?"

Sasuke shrugged.

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They had ended up driving aimlessly for forty-five minutes until they hit a random city. Sasuke and Naruto had argued the entire way over which way to go, and where to eat. Naruto had wanted to go east toward the sea, but Sasuke argued that it would take an entire day to reach the ocean. Sasuke wanted to go south toward North Carolina, but Naruto complained that it would be too long. In the end, they ended up going southeast, without any idea where they were going. Naruto had wanted to eat McDonald's junk food, but Sasuke wanted to eat Japanese. They ended up going for greasy pseudo-Chinese at some run down little shack they found off the highway. The only thing that they could agree on was what to do.

Naruto pranced happily into the large music shop as Sasuke smoked his third cigarette of the day outside. The girl at the cash register smiled at Naruto's lightheartedness and continued to read her magazine. The blonde boy flashed her a grin before attacking the music collection. He fingered nimbly through stacks of rock and pop, absentmindedly brushing past artists like Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys. Sometimes he would come by a record that was already in his collection and linger on it for a minute, appreciating the photograph on the cover. He picked up a copy of The Unicorns' "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?" happily. He had enjoyed listening to Sasuke's copy the night before. He smiled as he remembered the adorable antics of the band members as they pretended to be unicorns and sang songs about extinction and missing the ark.

Sasuke strolled in a few minutes later, shrugging off the girl at the counter who beamed at his pretty face. He started browsing music next to Naruto, thumbing through the various artists at a slower rate than the blonde boy. He snatched up all six of Elliott Smith's albums immediately, without even a glance at the price tags. He gave the singer staring away from him on the "From a Basement on the Hill" album a sad glance, shaking his head at the singer's fate. He picked through the rest of the records with a look of boredom on his face, having owned most of them already. The faces of a million people flashed in front of his eyes. He regarded them with the same dead end look that he regarded everyone else.

"Hey, you done yet?" asked Naruto, stretching. He had only picked up one record, not having enough money to pay for more. Sasuke eyed his lone record, but decided not to ask.

"Yeah," replied Sasuke, moving toward the register. The girl smiled sweetly at Sasuke, trying to catch his eye. Sasuke ignored her, preferring to pick through a bowl of cheap guitar picks instead. A blue one, blue the exact same color of Naruto's eyes, stuck out of the crowd. Picking up the little teardrop of plastic and studying it carefully, he handed it to the girl. The girl looked at the pick, and then at Naruto, and frowned. She went back to obediently scanning the items, understanding the meaning of the pick.

"Hey, Sasuke," said Naruto, noticing the guitar pick, "Do you play the guitar?"

Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek and said, "No."

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They arrived back at Sasuke's apartment around the evening, exhausted from wandering aimlessly around the city and getting into petty arguments. Sasuke plopped onto the overstuffed couch and rubbed his temples, head ringing from arguing with the thick-headed blonde. Naruto collapsed on the carpeted floor, body laid out like a star. He stared at the ceiling and groaned.

"You're a real jackass, you know?" said Naruto, sitting up. He grabbed Sasuke's plastic bag of CDs from the coffee table. He began opening Elliott Smith's "XO" album, tossing the plastic wrapping absentmindedly on the floor. Sasuke scowled at the mess that Naruto was making. Naruto ignored him and popped the CD into the CD player, waiting impatiently for the player to react to his commands.

Sasuke stood up and walked into he kitchen. He rummaged around the cabinets, looking behind the boxes of food that had already been there when he had arrived. His parents, perfectionists that they were, were fond of being prepared. He smiled as his fingers brushed against glass behind a box of Cocoa-Puffs. He reached in and carefully pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel's. His brother, soft-hearted when it came to his little brother, liked to indulge Sasuke in adult pleasures. Shifting the boxes of cereal aside, Sasuke found a bottle of Johnny Walker Red, a couple of small bottles of vodka, sake, and some coconut-flavored rum. A going away present.

Sasuke pulled out a shot glass that was stowed away in the back of the rest of the glasses and measured out two shots of the liquor, the strong scent of whiskey immediately filling the room. He dumped the shots into a larger glass. He opened his refrigerator and produced a plastic bottle of Coca-Cola. Filling up the rest of the cup with the soft drink, he cleaned up the kitchen, leaving no trace of his alcoholic endeavors. He took a sip of the liquid and closed his eyes, feeling the cold drink slide down his throat. The aftertaste of bitterness made him frown, but then, he had yet to find an alcoholic drink that wasn't bitter to the taste.

Walking back into the living room, he found Naruto listening to the music. Naruto scrunched his nose and turned to Sasuke, "What's that smell? What are you drinking?"

Sasuke shrugged, "Jack and Coke."

Naruto stared at him. "What's that?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes, "Coca-Cola and Jack Daniel's."

Naruto's blue eyes became as large as plates, "You mean the whiskey?"

"No," said Sasuke sarcastically, "I meant the strawberry shortcake factory. Of course the whiskey, you idiot."

Naruto's expression became thoughtful at this information. He looked at Sasuke hard, as if contemplating something. His blue eyes, so pure that it they could have well been sapphires, bore into Sasuke's coal black ones. It gave Sasuke the shivers seeing him like that, and he remembered the agonizing hard on he had the day before. He blinked and looked down at his drink, taking a big gulp of the sweet-sour-bitter liquid.

"Can I have a sip?" asked Naruto innocently. He stood up and walked over to Sasuke, sitting next to him casually. Sasuke looked at him, eyes narrowed. He looked at that innocent face, blue eyes, whiskered cheeks, golden hair, and he found that he couldn't allow himself to give his gentleman's poison to Naruto. Naruto, the pure. Naruto, the innocent. But then, a flicker of something caught Sasuke's eye. Something sad, afraid, pained. Something he saw every morning in the bathroom mirror. Emptiness.

"Yeah," he said, handing the drink over to Naruto.

Naruto took a tiny sip, nibbling at it almost like a mouse nibbled at cheese. Another thoughtful expression appeared on his face as he swallowed the liquid. After a moment, he decided the taste was agreeable, and he took a larger gulp. All the while Sasuke watched with a look of amusement on his face. He remembered the first time he had ever drank Jack and Coke. He was with the long-haired boy named Neji. Their parents had gone out of town for some corporate meeting, some petty excuse to be away from the children no doubt. Neji had come arrived bearing a flask of Jack Daniel's stolen from his uncle's alcohol cabinet. They had been drinking buddies, two children burdened by a cold reality that they couldn't deal with. They both had their problems. They never shared them.

Sasuke stood to fix himself another glass of Jack and Coke. He followed the same procedure as he had for the first. He preferred to add the most whiskey possible to the mix before the taste of the alcohol became apparent. He took a sip of his patented two-shot drink and looked at Naruto who was swaying slightly to the music, still steadying sipping the drink. He smirked as he remembered all the nights he had spent drinking alcohol and listening to music, the world spinning out of control before him.

Deciding that Naruto could probably use another drink, Sasuke mixed another glass for the boy, this time only adding one shot of Jack Daniel's. He remembered the first night with Neji, when he had drunk so much that he couldn't even taste the liquor anymore, the drink sliding easily down his throat. He had been young then, ignorant of proofs and concentrations, judging the strength of the liquor only by the bitterness of the taste. The Jack and Coke hadn't tasted bitter. Before he knew it, he had downed six glasses of the drink, and was trying to retch the chemical out of his stomach in the bathroom. Neji had only laughed at him. An eerie, hollow laugh.

He decided that this would be Naruto's last drink for the night.

Sasuke stepped back into the room, carrying the drinks with him. He placed Naruto's before the blonde boy. Naruto gave him a happy smile and continued to mouth words along with the music. Sasuke sat back down next to Naruto and sipped his drink, closing his eyes as his muscles relaxed. Elliott Smith's voice filled the room, notes bending over the two, filling their heads. Elliott's voice was a bit rough and wavy, sometimes weak, but never unpleasant. Sasuke decided that he sounded like a man too drunk off of sadness to sing precisely the right notes. Someone who had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't an opera singer with a pressed shirt and tuxedo, but a guy just sitting around in jeans and a t-shirt singing to his guitar in a café. It reminded him of himself.

Naruto's own voice would sometimes join Elliott's, singing the lines that he particularly liked. Sasuke automatically burned those lyrics into his mind, memorizing the sound of Naruto's voice. Sasuke looked at Naruto who was lost in the music. His cheeks were red from the alcohol, but he seemed to be normal otherwise. He knew that Naruto's world had yet to spin sideways on its axis and that his limbs had yet to grow wings and fly on their own. He wondered if Naruto would be afraid when that started to happen, when the alcohol finally hit him. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to hold Naruto to his body, hold him close when the world started spinning and his memory started blanking. Sasuke closed his eyes and suppressed the desire, drinking another gulp from his glass instead.

Naruto first noticed the world trembling a little around the edges when he reached down for his second glass. He gave a little half-smile, and was suddenly overcome with the urge to shout: blast off! He felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a new world, like he was about to be shot into space where he could watch the people on earth from far away. His eyes lit up at the opening of one of his favorite songs.

"I love this song!" exclaimed Naruto, excitedly.

_I'll fake it through the day  
with some help   
from Johnny Walker red  
Send the poisoned rain down the drain   
to put bad thoughts in my head_

_Two tickets torn in half  
and a lot of nothing to do  
Do you miss me--Miss Misery--  
like you say you do?_

Naruto sang along to the songs, voice sending tremors down Sasuke's body. Sasuke looked at the blonde boy whose eyes were closed in concentration. He looked like a pink angel like that, so pure and red from alcohol, singing in his ethereal voice. Sasuke wanted to reach up trace those whiskers, kiss along them. A string of nameless men flashed in his mind, and he closed his eyes, hands clutched tightly around his drink.

_A man in the park  
read the lines in my hand   
told me I'm strong, hardly ever wrong  
I said man you mean _

_You had plans for both of us  
that involved a trip out of town  
to a place I've seen in a magazine  
that you left lying around _

Sasuke remembered broken images of his past, faint and blurry from alcoholic nights. It was like watching a movie that kept skipping. For every five minutes played, another ten minutes would be lost. And the only thing the viewers could do is try to keep up, hoping that nothing important happened in the ten minutes that was gone. Sasuke remembered men, boys, sometimes even girls, lying next to him, kissing his collarbone, licking his ear. He remembered times where he had been sitting around one moment, and then down on his knees sucking another man's dick. No memory in between. Like someone had just cut it out. He remembered waking up next to women, naked and sweaty, and wondering how he had even gotten it up. He remembered tongues down his throat. One moment a boy's, another moment a man's, and then a woman's. Not knowing who was who and not knowing if he consented. Sasuke hid his face in his hands. Naruto kept singing.

_I don't have you with me but  
I keep a good attitude  
Do you miss me--Miss Misery--  
like you say you do? _

_I know you'd rather see me gone  
than to see me the way that I am  
but I am in your life, anyway _

Sasuke looked at Naruto who seemed so vibrant singing his music innocently. Naruto was free, without parents, without care. He was suddenly overcome with a need to kiss Naruto, as if Naruto's naivety could somehow be transferred to him in that way. He was drunk, he knew it. The world was spinning around him, his head seemed to be filled with stars, and he felt so light he thought he could fly. He looked at Naruto who was swaying freely to the music by then, completely intoxicated. Reaching over, he grabbed Naruto's hand, catching the boy off guard. Then, leaning foreward, he pressed his lips, chilled from the liquor, onto Naruto's. The kiss was cold and slippery, but, at the same time, it warmed Sasuke. Naruto was still for a moment, before returning the kiss shyly. Sasuke's tongue sought out Naruto's, who hesitantly touched it with his own. The inexperience of the kiss thrilled Sasuke, and filled the emptiness in him with something that he didn't know existed. All Sasuke could do was hope that he would remember the moment for the rest of his life.

_Next door TVs flashing blue  
frames on the wall   
It's a comedy of errors, you see;  
it's about taking a fall _

_To vanish into oblivion  
it's easy to do  
and I try to be  
but you know me  
I come back when you want me to _

_Do you miss me--Miss Misery--  
like you say you do?_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the reviews so far! Please keep reviewing!

**Warnings:** Smoking, drinking, and sex with people you don't know are all bad ideas. Don't do them unless if you are a character in this fanfic.

**Song:** The song lyrics featured here are from Kings of Convenience's "Sorry or Please."

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**Cracks in the Sidewalk  
part iv**  
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Morning pierced Naruto like a blade. He groaned as he cracked open his red-rimmed eyes, the skin around his eyes still flushed from the alcohol of yesternight. Slowly, like a geisha, he rose from his position on the floor, rubbing the spots where the carpet had offered its rough caress. He stretched his arms, one at a time, each extending gracefully over his head until his joints locked. A yawn erupted from his lips, dry and peeling from dehydration. He sat in that position for a long moment, frozen in the task of counting the streaks of light running across his bare chest.

Then, as if the play button were suddenly switched on, Naruto leapt to his feet and scurried across the room. He rushed down the narrow hallway with the bruised plaster and headed directly to the tiny bathroom at the end. He slid hastily into the room where he wasted no time in kneeling over the toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach. His violent heaves shook his petite body. He whimpered as he finished vomiting into the toilet and slumped into a corner of the room, completely spent.

"Just wait until the headache sets in," came a deep voice. Sasuke stood at the door casually sipping a mug of coffee. Naruto caught a whiff of Sasuke's cologne through the foul odor of alcohol. The scent wasn't unpleasant. It was a blend of salty ocean air, infant tears, Eve's poison apples, and tender sin. Elegiacal.

Naruto scowled, "You took a shower."

"Didn't know it was a crime," replied Sasuke as he sipped his coffee. His pale complexion untouched by the poison of the previous night save for the redness in the corners of his eyes. "You should try it sometime too."

"Why aren't you down here with me puking your guts out?" demanded Naruto as he helped himself to his feet. He swayed slightly as his brain adjusted to the change in balance, his legs momentarily turning into noodles. Naruto grabbed onto the plastic of the sink to steady himself and helped himself to Sasuke's medicine cabinet.

Sasuke shrugged as he lit a cigarette, "I'm not a lightweight like you."

"Shut up," retorted Naruto as he grabbed an outdated box of aspirin from the row, "And don't smoke in the apartment, bastard. You're stinkin' this place up."

Sasuke blew a smoke ring in his direction. Naruto watched with fascination as the gray puff wreathed his face and faded until the formation dissolved completely, melting until it was just air again. Sasuke watched Naruto watch the trail of rings leave his dusty-pink lips. Sasuke thought of the soft kisses of the night before, his lips trailing down the other's neck, attaching to the sensitive spaces under the chin, behind the ear, his mouth sucking greedily on the other's collarbone. He thought of the whimpers and groans that ripped from virgin lips and the predatory growl he had given in return as he wrapped his arms around the other's body. He thought of the grinding of hips, one slow and teasing, the other wild and eager and desperate.

And then stillness. The feeling of the soft body beneath him shuddering, slamming into bliss at a million revolutions a minute.

Naruto's clear eyes followed the ash as it fell from Sasuke's cigarette, the edges of his world still shimmering lightly around him. He stared at the refuse of Sasuke's vice, watching as the grains spread like contagions over the tiles upon impact. He studied the particles for a while, picking out the silver against the gray, silently counting the burned hardships lying stark and naked on the linoleum–completely and utterly spent.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" said Sasuke, his brutal eyes boring into Naruto.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing?" retorted Naruto as he wrenched open the bottle, face flushed, fingers trembling. "Making a goddamn mess all over the apartment."

Naruto popped two pills into his mouth as he turned on the faucet. He bent over the stream of water and sipped the liquid deeply, relishing the cold-coppery taste. He swallowed the medicine, savoring the cool sensation of tap sliding down his throat temporary parting the haze of his hangover.

"It's too quiet in here," grumbled Naruto as he wiped his mouth dry with a sleeve. Sasuke made a face at the gesture but didn't comment. "And what the fuck happened last night anyway?"

The smaller boy pushed past Sasuke, squeezing through the narrow doorway with some difficulty. The dark-haired boy tensed as their bodies collided clumsily, limbs crammed and rearranged to accommodate the tight space. For a moment Sasuke wanted to curl his forearm around the slim waist jammed against his ribs, to possess what he had briefly indulged in the night before.

But he clenched his fists instead and let the other boy pass quietly, slipping past him like a ghost that was already beyond his reach.

Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the ruckus of the blonde sifting through his records, plastic clattering against plastic like artificial rain falling over a glass roof. He leaned heavily against wall and shuffled his memories as cigarette smoke wrapped around him like a fatal womb. Images flashed across his eyelids as music trickled into the room.

_Five weeks in a prison, I made no friends  
There's more time to be done, but I've got a week to spend  
I didn't pay much attention first time around  
But now you're hard not to notice, right here in my town  
Where the stage of my old life meets the cast of the new  
Tonights actors: Me and You _

Naruto had come.

Sasuke recalled as he breathed in mint-fire. His head rolled limply against the wall, his neck stretching, his mind reeling. He remembered the white-hot feel of the other boy's semen as it spurted into his hand, its sticky-sweet fragrance filling the room. He heard once more the stuttering cry as the other pressed earnestly against his palm, the flesh there burning and red.

_Each day is taking us closer  
While drawing the curtains to close  
This far, or further, I need to know  
Your increasingly long embraces  
Are they saying sorry or please?  
I don't know what's happening, help me_

Naruto didn't remember.

Sasuke grimaced as he relived the innocent blankness of the boy's eyes as he awoke. The blessed ignorance of sin that marked Naruto like a scar. The ignorance of evil, of suspicion, of lust, of passion. Of love.

_Through the streets, on the corners, there's a scent in the air  
I ask you out and I lead you, I know my way around here  
There's a bench I remember, and on the way there I find  
That the movements you're making, are mirrored in mine  
And your hand is held open, intentionally Or just what I want to see? _

Sasuke was confused.

The truth glared at him as he clutched the butt of his cigarette to his lips, inhaling charmless air through the yellowed filter.

Sasuke was never confused.

Because Sasuke was always the one who knew the rules of surviving best. He knew how to wake up and walk away better than anyone else, how to stare blankly at adoration and shake his head. He knew how to bite his cheek and let the millions of might-be's parade before him as he sat naked and silent in the rumpled sheets. He knew to stop believing in might-be's and may be's, and to just start touching. He knew how to touch but never feel, to want but never need.

_Your increasingly long embraces  
Are they saying sorry or please?  
I don't know what's happening, help me  
I don't normally beg for assistance  
I rely on my own eyes to see   
But right now they make no sense to me  
Right now you make no sense to me_

And because he knew how to live but never hope.

Sasuke lit another cigarette and puffed silver-lined clouds toward the ceiling.


	5. Chapter 5

Sasuke was drinking by noon that day, the wild whiskey running down his throat like fire. He made a sour face as the aftertaste of the Jack coupled with the rancid residue of last night struck him like a bat. He glared at his shot glass as if it were the culprit and punished it by stuffing it with poison and draining the golden blood from it slowly in one long slurp. The little thing was a novelty that someone had bought him a long time ago. He grimaced as he remembered her bright pink hair and smile. He hazed the memory down with another shot.

_Please could you stop the noise, I'm trying to get some rest  
From all the unborn chicken voices in my head _

He knew he had had enough to drink when unfolding his fingers to count the number of shots he had consumed was difficult. His thoughts began to fly wildly as he leaned heavily against the cushions of his couch, the world already starting to color a blurry warm. His hands and feet tingled pleasantly as the world rocked gently to the tune. He breathed deeply as he felt the surreal landscapes begin to pop up behind the bleak normality of everyday life. Thom York's wailing voice penetrated the opiate of reality like a knife.

_When I am king, you will be first against the wall  
With your opinion which is of no consequence at all _

Sasuke thought of Britishmen and their mumbling accents and Frenchmen with their rolling voices, both grinding their hips against the electronics of hysteria. He thought of giggling ladies, who were the same regardless of nationality, perched at the edges of the hologram dance floor pointing and picking as if they were at the meat market. And the Japanese-Americans who would wrap their pale arms around his torso, hands seeking warmer places, their lip rings clattering against his teeth.

_Ambition makes you look pretty ugly  
Kicking and squealing gucci little piggy _

And he thought of Naruto who probably didn't even know how to dance.

_You don't remember  
You don't remember  
Why don't you remember my name? _

Sasuke straightened himself up slowly, cursing as he bumped his knee into the coffee table, and staggered to his bedroom.

_Rain down, rain down  
Come on rain down on me   
From a great height _

He walked slowly down the long corridor, hands slapping against the narrow walls, his legs seemingly leaden. For a moment, he forgot how to use a doorknob, and simply slammed against the door, body pressed violently against the wood. His senses slowly returned to him as he twisted the little metal nose and fell into his room.

_Rain down, rain down  
Come on rain down on me  
From a great height _

In the corner of his closet sat something that his brother had bought him without his parents knowing. He flung open the hinged doors, and sighed as he grasped the smooth neck of the object. It had been a taboo object in the house, the sounds the object made being loud and obnoxious instead of soft and caged. He ran his fingers over the strings softly, the object producing a muted sound. His brother had bought it for him because his brother hated him; hated him and loved to taunt him with pleasures that he could never really have.

_That's it sir  
You're leaving  
The crackle of pigskin _

Sasuke turned back to the gaping void of his closet and heaved out an amp. Taunted him with happiness and indulgences that no boy in the household would be allowed to possess. Sasuke fumbled with the cords in his drunken stupor, but was finally able to plug everything in. 

_The dust and the screaming  
The yuppies networking _

Misery loved company.

_The panic, the vomit _

And slowly, Sasuke began to play the music that he knew would never see the light of sober day, the blue of Naruto's eyes ringing in his head.

_The panic, the vomit _

---

"Iruka!" called Naruto has he hopped into the chocolate-colored café. "You're back!"

The man from behind the counter smiled at the boy affectionately as he reached for a bottle of syrup. There was a long scar across his nose, running dangerously under his eyes, but it did not detract from the kindness of his eyes and the softness of his jaw. His round face held a child-like sweetness to it, and many people felt that the scar had the effect of a whimsical splatter of freckles across his face instead of a deep-seated wound that reflected glaringly in the mirror. He was gentle in everything, melting into a warm and protective cocoon around all that he met. 

"Naruto!" he called, flashing the container to the boy before opening the cap. "The usual?"

"Yes, please," beamed the boy as he hopped onto a stool nearby. He leaned over the counter and grinned wildly at the man. "So how was Japan? What bands did you see?"

"It was pretty incredible," Iruka laughed and poured carbonated water into the plastic cup, mixing the liquids together with a spoon. "But the tickets were so expensive, I only got to see two bands." His eyebrows knitted together as he thought of his empty wallet and sighed.

"Which two?" pressed Naruto as he stabbed into the drink with a straw and slurped the sugary liquid gleefully. "Dir en Grey, right? You wouldn't miss them, they're your favorite band!"

"Yes, I did go and see Dir en Grey," sighed the man again, this time in contentment, as he cleaned the cappuccino machine. "They were wonderful, spectacular even."

"Which songs did they play? I bet you got trampled by the crowd of screaming girls..." asked the boy, questions firing from his mouth in rapid succession. His mind raced with images of towering Tokyo with its narrow streets and flush of people that pumped through them in quiet order each day. He thought of men, somber and stern, in business suites, carrying their briefcases through the crowd of morning. He thought of boys, rebellious and glowering, with their hair dyed and damaged standing on the street corners smoking cigarettes. And he thought of girls with chemical curls in school uniforms or in frilled dresses or drenched in plastic pink grouped together, toes pointing in, writing love letters.

He thought of love hotels glowing false hearts between the crowds of cement corporation. Hostesses and hosts walked the streets, begging sleep from pills by day and luring liquor from drunkards by night. Housewives bought fish from the market and readied baths for elusive husbands day by day, tucking in their children in the wake of absent fathers. And men eating noodles at cheap noodle stands with their ties loosened and dreaming of sex with their wives or other company. 

And of musicians, with their mute defiance masked as entertainment. Stately men with faces pasted with pearl powder and caked with eyeliner bruises. Tall men with fingers calloused by metal strings, balancing precariously in thick heels and playing sequence after sequence of brilliant virtuoso. Short men with voices raspy and thick, clutching the microphone desperately while belting falsettos or anguished screams.

"Hey," reprimanded Iruka, "I might not look like much, but I'm not a pushover either. I can hold my own."

"How was Kyo?" asked Naruto, poking the half-melted ice cubes with the straw. "Is he as amazing live as he sounds in recordings?"

"He was quite something," chuckled Iruka, basking in his memories. "When he sings, you just get goose bumps. That new song that they've just come out with, Ryoujoku no Ame, really frames his voice well, especially the last arpeggio that he sings towards the end."

"How is he compared to me?" boasted the boy. "Bet he doesn't hold a candle to my voice in real life though, eh?"

"Maybe after a few years," laughed Iruka, slapping Naruto playfully with a dry towel. "His voice is deeper than yours is and richer, though you might be able to hold a note better than him."

Naruto rubbed his temple where the cloth had whipped him ruefully before grinning at the compliment. He slid off the stool to throw away his empty cup. "Good! Then I'll beat him for sure one day!"

"Why don't you sing for someone?" asked the man. "You've got a great singing voice, but you don't let anyone hear it."

Naruto pouted, "I don't want to be one of those solo acts. I want a band." He climbed back onto the stool. "I want nakama." The word rolled strangely from his mouth, his blond hair matching strangely with the Japanese. 

Iruka cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think you can just choose to have nakama. It sort of just happens."

"I already have one!" exclaimed Naruto, pumping his fist in the air. "There's this guy who just moved here from Seattle named Sasuke! We're friends!"

Iruka laughed and patted the boy on the head. "I don't think you're using the word right," he said. "Nakama is more than just friends, it's supposed to be even more than family." 

Naruto thought for a while.

"But, somehow," he said slowly, "I feel like he already is more."

---

The rain beat down relentlessly on the black nylon of Naruto's umbrella as he struggled to make his way to the school. The puddles overwhelmed the streets, gushing down in torrents down the gentle slopes. Earthworms flopped and squired on the sidewalk, drowning miserably in the flood that washed over them. Naruto trudged through the pools of water and shivered as the wind whipped over rain-drenched jeans. He grimaced as he felt the sogginess travel to his socks, the clumsy soles of his sneakers unable to keep the persistent rain out.

Finally he stumbled into the front doors of his high school, nearly slipping on the muddy residue of other students. He panted and heaved as his body adjusted to the temperature difference and rubbed his hands together to chase out the cold. His umbrella dripped pathetically in its collapsed form as he dragged the wet thing down the hall and stuffed it haphazardly into his locker. The other students glared at him as he trailed water through the hallways, themselves fully dry having ridden the bus. 

Naruto couldn't ride the yellow contraptions, with the apathetic drivers and menacing bullies, he knew that it was better to trek to school instead of risking the pain.

He made his way to his first class and sank into his seat with an exhausted sigh, completely drained from the black clouds crying over the mountains. He was always weak when the sun refused to shine through the clouds, preferring to slumber and listen to music lazily than to do anything with himself. On weekends he would curl up on his couch with the blankets draped over his tiny body and listen to unplugged versions of his favorite songs.

The morning bell rang without fail, the sound high-pitched and screeching. The students groaned and ceased their gossiping for the morning announcements, the decapitated voice crackling through the speakers speaking of insignificant reminders and events. There was the pledge. There was the minute of ill-respected silence. There was the fake wishing of a good day. 

And then there was a boy with blood-red hair staring quietly through the glass of the door, unnatural greens wide and dark with kohl. Many of the students shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the teacher opened the door for the boy, welcoming him in. He glared at them all as if they were ants, eyes penetrating and icy. 

"Class," said the teacher, "this is Gaara Sabaku. He will be joining us today because his high school has been flooded and will be closed until further notice."

Naruto studied the boy with interest, his blue eyes raking up and down the small body before him. He absorbed the tattoo on Gaara's forehead, the black circles smudged around his eyes, the myriad of hoops and studs and bars stapled through his ears, the pursed and tight lips, the dog collar littered with spikes around his neck, the ripped and torn and shot clothing that hung loosely from his body, the leather jacket with the hardware that clamored loudly when he moved, the black nail polish that stood stark like black decay on his fingers, and the military boots that tracked mud over the linoleum floor.

A few boys in jerseys snickered at Gaara, whispering among themselves and the girls across from them. Some girls lowered their glances, unable to stand the intensity of his stare. Others shifted their seats, pressing themselves as far away from him as possible. Only Naruto did nothing but look at him in innocent interest, shaking the water from his tattered shirt.

The class watched as Gaara stalked down the aisles looking for a seat, throwing his glare at anyone who dared cast their criticizing eyes on him. He rejected empty seat after empty seat until he came upon Naruto's island table. Gaara glowered at the blond, but the boy didn't seem to notice. 

Instead, Naruto cracked a blue-sky smile and said, "Dude, you look just like Sid Vicious."

---

"How are you going to get home?" asked Naruto as he lugged his backpack out of his locker. He frowned as he thought of Sasuke who had not attended school that day, leaving him with no one but the sound of rain during lunch. "Your school is pretty far away from here isn't it?"

"The county has arranged for buses to drive us back," replied Gaara frankly, leaning casually against a locker to wait for the blond. Some boys from the football team snickered at the boy as they passed for weight training.

"But isn't that still a long drive?" said the blond as he reached into the catastrophe of his locker to produce his sour-smelling umbrella. "How early do you have to wake up in the morning?"

"Early," answered the redhead simply. Naruto made a face at his silence. It reminded him of someone.

"How long will your school be closed?" he prompted again as he made his way toward the exit. 

"Probably until Thanksgiving Break," replied Gaara, following the blond down the bustling hallway. Students were busy stuffing their backpacks with books and saying goodbye to their boyfriends and girlfriends. The stench of socialization made Gaara sick.

"That's pretty rough," said Naruto, dodging through a large group of girls. "Hey, maybe you could live with me!" 

"Why would I want to do that?" glowered Gaara, pushing past a boy in his way. He wasn't sure if he liked the company of the blond, though, the chipper voice seemed to offer him some ghost of solace.

"So you wouldn't have to ride the bus that far every day!" chirped Naruto smiling broadly.

"Why would you want me to live with you?" growled Gaara, eyes impatient and wandering.

"Because," said the blond, "you seem different from the rest."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone! I would just like to thank everyone for reading this story and keeping me motivated to write! Remember, your comments really do motivate me to write more and they make it harder to abandon stories! Definitely comment if you like the story or if you have constructive criticism! I can't get back to everyone who has commented, unfortunately, but I'm thankful for each and every one of them and I appreciate them all.

**Disclaimer/Credits:** All characters are copyright of Kishimoto. The song featured in this story is called _Fukai no Yami_ by the Japanese band Girugamesh. Lyrics and music are copyright of Girugamesh.

---------------

**Cracks in the Sidewalk  
part vi**

---------------

Sasuke was smoking a cigarette on the balcony when he saw a shivering Naruto run, sopping wet, into his apartment complex, the sloshing of the boy's shoes audible even from the fourth floor. He closed his eyes and exhaled, a dragon of smoke uncurling from his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw the dissipating apparition before him, the wreath fluttering like wings before fading into oblivion. Sasuke could hear the slap-slap of Narutos feet and the squeak-squeak of his rubber soles on the stairs. He could feel the rasp-rasp of the blond's breath as the cold trembled through his body and the puff-puff of his breath as blood raced through his warm veins.

Sasuke had only known Naruto for a few days, but he already knew many things about the boy. He knew the ghost-traces of his eyes as he looked at the stars at night and the bright-crushes of his cheeks as the discs whirled in the machines. He knew the gasp-groan of his voice as he trembled under his hands and the writhe-squirm of his body as he carved whispers into the soft ginger of his skin. He knew the wheeze-moan of his soft snore in the moonless night and the mumble-scream of his bottomless sleep. But there were some things that Sasuke didn't know about Naruto. He didn't know the grimace-smile of his lips that came with every stolen umbrella on a rainy day and the clench-clatter of his jaws as he punched the wall in grating frustration. He didn't know about the scar-tattoo that marked him like an unholy stigma at night and about the black-blue quality of his voice as he sang his own lullabies before bed.

He puffed one last time on the cigarette before a thunderous banging resounded through the apartment. He sighed and tossed the rest of the cigarette into the muddy rain. Another round of knocking rocked the apartment, forcing Sasuke into an irritated expression, his eyes narrowing, his lips pursed.

"I'm coming!" he shouted through the impatient ruckus. He crossed his living room and opened the door, revealing a dripping Naruto glaring at him through a mess of limp hair.

"You look like shit," said Sasuke, without hint of wanting to help the boy at all. If anything, his tone suggested that Naruto should stay as far from his carpeting as possible. The blond glowered at him and pushed past him, taking liberties to track mud over the carpet and plopping with a satisfied sigh onto the expensive couch. Sasuke frowned at the property damage, but quietly accepted the wet boy who was slowly seeping rainwater into his cushions.

"Why weren't you at school?" asked Naruto, shaking some of the rain from his hair, splattering the television screen with a million droplets. Sasuke grimaced and moved to the kitchen to retrieve a towel. "There was a new kid today."

"What's that got to do with me?" bit back Sasuke as he threw the cloth at Naruto's head, the bundle hitting the blond squarely in the temple. Naruto scrunched his face and shot the brunette a sour expression before slinging the towel over his head.

"He's totally cool!" babbled Naruto as he removed his ruined shoes. "He looks like Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols! Or a Japanese rocker!"

"So he's a freak," replied Sasuke flatly, rolling his eyes. He made his way to his closet to find dry clothes for the boy, hoping that it would make the blond stop mucking around his furniture, trailing water and dirt everywhere.

"He is not!" retorted Naruto as he followed Sasuke into the bedroom, leaving a path of smudges and drips behind him. "He's a bassist!"

"A 'bastard'?" said Sasuke, raising an eyebrow. He emerged from his closet holding a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt. "Put these on before you destroy my apartment."

"Not a 'bastard,' you bastard," shouted Naruto, snatching the clothes from the boy. "A bassist!"

"So?" replied the boy emotionlessly, turning to leave. He closed his eyes as he shut the door behind him and leaned heavily against the slab of wood. He heaved a long sigh.

"I can start a band!" exclaimed Naruto through the door. Sasuke could hear the fumbling of cloth and images of bare flesh immediately flooded back to him.

"You can't start a band with just a bassist and a vocalist," shouted Sasuke, grimacing as he heard something fall inside his bedroom. It seemed that noise followed the blond everywhere. And yet, as harsh as the sounds often were, they were strangely comforting, oddly human, and bizarrely compassionate.

"This shirt is too small!" called Naruto from behind the door. "What the fuck is this? Something you wore in elementary school?"

"Small clothes for small people," replied Sasuke cooly.

"Screw you! I'm going to grow eventually!" screamed the blond. "I'm going to find another shirt!"

A rush of adrenaline coursed through Sasuke's body at those words and he immediately rushed into the room, uncaring of sunshine hair or ocean eyes or billboard smiles. He stumbled over a lamp that Naruto had knocked over and growled at the other boy, nearly lunging at the body half-buried in the closet. "Get away from there!"

The two of them fell into an odd tangle of Calvin Klein, Prada, Ralph Lauren, rain-scented hair, clumsy fingers, baited breath, and a knot of cords dressing them both like a Christmas present. Naruto winced as he knocked his head against something hard and bulky, his scalp resting on a knob-like object. Turning his head, he found himself staring at the strangest-looking guitar he had ever seen. The edges of the polished wood seemed to leave themselves in jagged edges instead of the usual smooth and sensual curve. The body of the instrument swept up in a flame-like movement and curled over itself all at once like the caricature of a hellish grin. The neck extended nobly from the infernal sweeps of the body, tall and stern, like the neck of a noblewoman dressed in pearls. And at the very top of the headstock, a star-like spiral crowned the instrument like a holiday ornament sitting smugly at the tip.**(1)** Naruto caught himself gaping at the guitar, completely dumbfounded.

"I-is that a guitar?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper. He groaned as the small amp bit into his head ruefully.

"Get out," grounded Sasuke through clenched teeth. "Get the fuck out." He jumped to his feet in one fluid sweep of his body and hauled the blond boy up with a brutal tug. Naruto gave a surprised yelp as he found himself barefoot and shirtless and being pushed out the door. He collided harshly into a wall before being shoved even further down the narrow hallway, bumping into corners and edges.

"W-wait!" shouted Naruto as he rushed to avoid the frantic actions of the other boy. "You play the guitar?"

"None of your goddamn business," roared Sasuke as he continued to drive the other boy out with his pushes, uncaring of the soft flesh that be scratched beneath his fingernails.

"Is that what you bought the pick for?" asked Naruto as he danced away from Sasuke's grip, his feet carrying him through the living room, his body shielding itself with a coffee table. But Sasuke only kept stalking the other boy down, intent on driving those blue eyes from his home.

"I said, none of your goddamn business!" hollered Sasuke as he grabbed the smaller boy by the arm and dragged him to the door. The blond protested at the bruising grip, biting and scratching the black-haired boy, inflicting red welts on snow-white skin.

"Why don't you play?" asked Naruto desperately, clinging to the door frame, his fingers in danger of being smashed. "Why don't you play for me?"

"The same reason why you don't sing," growled Sasuke as he slammed the door loudly, leaving the boy just enough time to withdraw his fingers.

---------------

"Hey Gaara," said Naruto as he let his backpack fall heavily onto the plastic seat. He grimaced as the straps ground against the red scratches covering his arms. He shivered under the artificial draft of the school and collapsed like lead into the chair. Droplets of water rolled down the delicate curves of his face, the bridge of his nose, the pout of his mouth. A band-aid clung to his cheekbone miserably, already peeling off from the rain still in the air. His clothes were drenched in the cold autumn rain, clinging to his body heavy and gushing with water. Naruto flashed Gaara a weak smile. "What's up?"

"What happened to you?" replied Gaara, giving the boy a disapproving once-over with his slicing green eyes. His voice was blunt and cold, like a butte knife sawing through skin. Slow, messy, but ultimately sickeningly enjoyable. It made many people look at him with trembling eyes.

"Nothing," said Naruto through the water that dripped from his spiked lashes. He blinked so that he could see, ignoring the sting of acidic rain. "Just lost my umbrella, that's all."

"It got stolen from you?" prompted the redhead with a roll of his eyes. "You're weak, letting people do that to you."

"Hey! Shut up!" shouted Naruto defensively. He gripped at the soggy hem of his shirt and twisted, letting a stream of water free onto the floor. "I said I lost it, okay? That's the truth!" His blue eyes were down, unable to meet Gaara's.

"I'm not a dumbass, Uzumaki," snapped Gaara, his voice biting, warning. He glared at the other boy. "I see how everyone looks at you. Looks at us."

"Yeah, well what are you going to do about it?" challenged Naruto with a hiss, his face flushed in anger. His head snapped up to meet Gaara's stone gaze, fire burning through the cold layers of his skin.

"I'll beat them all up," replied Gaara calmly. "I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt me."

"And what about the people who want to be your friends?" asked Naruto, his eyes softening. "What are you going to do about that?"

Gaara didn't answer, just continued to blink at Naruto through his stone mask, his face never changing, his eyes never really reacting. He sat still as a statue just looking at the blond, studying his small features, his strong eyes, and his firm mouth. They didn't speak for the remainder of the class, opting instead to sit in a vibrant silence colored with quiet pondering. The teacher droned and students nodded in and out of consciousness. The tap-tap of chalk filled the room as students scribbled and doodled memories onto papers. And then the bell rang, and the room was thrown into a hum of shifting fabrics, chattering girls, rowdy boys, and the scrape of chairs against floors.

"Hey, Gaara," said Naruto, picking up his book bag. "Let me hear you play the bass sometime, okay?"

---------------

"Sasuke!" shouted Naruto has he banged his fist on the metal door, the sound filling the entire stairwell. "Sasuke! Open up!"

Sasuke groaned at the bright voice ringing through the air, the blond's shouts giving him a headache. He clenched his fingers and remembered the horror of the other boy finding the guitar in his closet, the shock of another creature knowing his secrets, knowing his mind. The thing was a gift from his brother, a rare, custom-made Ganesa modeled after the one Kaoru of Dir en Grey owned. He remembered loving his brother after receiving the thing, being unable to stop running his hands over the curves of the instrument, being powerless to stop strumming the delicate strings. He remembered spending dark nights improvising while his parents slept, sitting in his closet, hiding from the servants. He remembered running through the house with the guitar after his parents had left for business, playing it in the foyer for the first time and listening with glee to the notes bouncing from the walls. And he remembered those bitter times where he was cooped up like a pig in his room, playing dead and muted chords as he counted the hours for his parents to sleep or die. But mostly he remembered the withering inside him as time passed, as the foyer became not-enough, as the waiting became unbearable, as the instrument became an enemy to his sanity.

"Sasuke, I can see your feet from under the door!" screamed Naruto, still banging on the door. "I know you're home!"

Silence. Sasuke didn't offer anything.

"Sasuke, if you play, I'll sing," said Naruto breathlessly. "'Cause I know you really want to. You really want to play."

Silence. Sasuke didn't have anything to offer.

"And I really want to sing too."

Silence. Sasuke didn't know what to offer.

"And," continued Naruto quietly, "I don't know what this song means, but I know that you know Japanese."

Silence. Just silence.

"A-and," he was stumbling over the sounds now for reasons even he didn't know, "there's this part that's just... It's just so beautiful. So beautiful it needs a guitar."

_The wind dances to these sounds  
The reason and the consequences of this distance  
To begin a punishment and a penance  
This light accidentally disappears now..._**(2)**

Naruto's patchwork Japanese rang through the stairwell, the first lines shy and quivering like a virgin at her wedding bed: pure and afraid and on the edge of something too great to fathom. The notes carried through the metal of the door and found its way to Sasuke's ears, burrowing into his heart like a parasite and sucking from him all of his resolve. He caved like a bag of bones and skin on the ground, his back to the door, his mind clutching to the melody as if it were sanity. The familiarity of the song comforted him, the chords old-time lovers to his fingers, the imprints of the strings friends to his nights.

_A sound that rings frailly  
The tears and this voice...a deep end  
The mind confuses even the heart...  
"Falling to the death"_

And then Naruto's voice became strong and sturdy, long notes laden with vibrato filling the air. And Sasuke followed that voice with his heart, tracing the line of notes, his own breath hitching when the melody flew a stray high note burning like a star. He listened to the drag of the long notes, finding comfort in the consistancy of Naruto's singing. It was that consistancy that made Sasuke rise to his feet, albeit unsteadily, and walk grimly to his closet. His fingers grasped the neck of the guitar and he lifted the small amp from the back, dragging the myriad of cords behind him like the train of a wedding gown.

_Taking advantage of this voice...you smile whispering  
Feelings that leave, wilting of rivalries  
Chilling this voice and these thoughts that I believed were right  
Making me fall_

And he fell into line with the limping notes, surprising himself how easily the sounds came to him, how natural the combination between his strings and Naruto's voice seemed. It surprised him how good it felt, how it felt like he was melting into his place next to Naruto, like he had always belonged there. How he was slowly opening, and, for once, he didn't seem to be afraid.

_The leaves of the trees die, falling subtly...  
Screaming with this voice that scatters them…in this deep darkness  
"To keep on believing."_

Naruto smiled as he heard Sasuke fall into place with him, the mash of voice and instrument in perfect harmony. He marveled at the sound of the guitar, the notes floating to him like clouds. Effortless. Beautiful.

_Depressing...depressing...  
I'm sinking into this deep darkness...  
Falling into a bottomless hole, just a body that died..._

Sasuke opened the door, his right hand grasping the guitar firmly by the neck, the cords pooling at his feet. Naruto gave him a soft smile, a real smile, not the advertisement smiles he usually gave, but a genuine smile.

"You sang the words all wrong," whispered Sasuke, his words lacking edge. "Don't butcher Japanese like that."

And Naruto just laughed. A bright, ringing laugh that circled like halos.

---------------

(1) I really don't know much about guitars so I had to look up information from wikipedia . This is Kaoru's guitar (a href" and I thought that it looked awesome hahaha.

(2) Naruto is singing in Japanese...but that'd be sort of boring to write out for everyone since most don't speak Japanese fluently...so I put up the translation instead. Translation thanks to fukainoyami who first translated it to Spanish and to deepblack who translated the Spanish to English XD.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone! I would just like to thank everyone for reading this story and keeping me motivated to write! Remember, your comments really do motivate me to write more and they make it harder to abandon stories! Definitely comment if you like the story or if you have constructive criticism! I can't get back to everyone who has commented, unfortunately, but I'm thankful for each and every one of them and I appreciate them all.

**Disclaimer/Credits:** All characters are copyright of Kishimoto. The songs featured in this story are called _Last Caress_ by the band The Misfits and _Scar Tissue_ by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Lyrics and music are copyright of the respective bands

---------------

**Cracks in the Sidewalk  
part vii**

---------------

"Gaara!" cried Naruto as he dashed through the crowd, zipping between giggling girls and boasting boys. He took care to avoid a cluster of football players gathered around a row of ugly orange lockers, spinning instead into a shy girl with glasses who gave a surprised yelp. The athletes guffawed at the sight and snickered the boy's clumsiness. The blond apologized as he picked up a stray book that he slipped from her arms before returning to chasing the redhead. "Gaara, wait up!"

The redhead ignored the calls behind him as he plowed slowly through the crowd, his tiny body slicing like a knife through the stream of students who poured from the classrooms. He glared at the people surround him as if they were rotting fish floating belly-up down the current. He flung those who got in his way carelessly aside, not bothering to dodge collision. He glowered at those who tried to act back, boring holes into their skulls with his insomnia eyes, scaring them into silence. He sighed in annoyance as he felt a hand grip his leather jacket, nails bearing into the hide in exhaustion. Gaara turned to look at the blond from the corner of his eye and said, "What?"

"Join my band!" beamed Naruto through stressed breath. He flashed a light-bulb smile.

"No," replied Gaara flatly, turning to continue his stalk up the hall.

"What?" shouted Naruto, running to block the boy's path. "Why not? It'll be fun!"

"Will you be in it?" asked Gaara, his bored eyes turning travelling to terrorize others around him.

"Of course!" replied the blond proudly, pointing to himself. "I'm the vocalist!"

"Then no," said Gaara with fatalistic finality. He walked around a stunned Naruto who was still gesturing enthusiastically at himself.

"Why not?" cried Naruto, disappointed. Gaara stopped on his own for once and seemed to ponder the question, though it was more of an opportunity for Naruto to consider the answer for himself. He rolled his eyes when only expectant silence radiated from the other boy. He turned to face the blond fully, studying the puzzled eyes, pouting mouth, the rosy cheek. His intense gaze drew a shiver from Naruto who writhed inwardly for the verdict.

"Sing," ordered Gaara, green eyes narrowed and challenging, his lips pressed into a line.

"What?" sputtered the blond. He suddenly seemed shy and small in the fluent crowd of students milling through the hallway. "Now? In front of everyone? But we're at school!"

"See?" said Gaara, face dark with contempt. "You don't even have the balls to sing in front of people, to show everyone what you can do. How can you even think of being a singer?"

The redhead turned on his heel, spinning like a razor, tearing through hopes and dreams like a knife, and continued to make his way down the corridor. Naruto stood in the same spot, his small body jostled relentlessly by the sheep-people around him. His head was lowered in either shame or anger or fear or hatred and his hands were clutched into tight fists that shook in misery. His hair was getting long, the blond locks falling into eyes, streaking his sight like prison bars. His breathing was ragged, like tears or screaming. His body was tense, like howls or killing.

And then he snapped, his body collapsing under the weight of his stasis, his limbs falling into technicolor motion. His angry feet carried him to a table that stood to the side of the hall. His hands swept in grand, desperate movements to clear the flyers sitting neatly and photocopied on the surface, sending the multicolored paper drifting like snow on the floor. He then hoisted himself on top of the clumsy furniture, his feet planted firmly on wobbly structure of plastic and metal. And then he bellowed, "Hey Gaara!"

The redhead turned just in time to hear the howl-sneer that ricocheted through the halls, turning heads wherever it landed.

_I got something to say  
I killed your baby today  
And it doesn't matter much to me  
As long as it's dead_

Students everywhere froze their movements to stare at the boy, shining like a beacon in the mess of schooling. His voice, loud and wailing and malicious, ripped through the air in waves that paralyzed. Some gathered before the table to look at the crazed brilliance of Naruto's boldness, basking in his shocking messages, slurping up carnage like strawberry-flavored milk.

_Well I got something to say  
I raped your mother today  
And it doesn't matter much to me  
As long as she's spread_

Gaara's ears perked as the familiar melody reached him amid the buzz of the hallway. He turned to find Naruto standing above the rest, screeching angry words dipped in purposeful imperfection to the gathering crowd. His hand pointing one moment to a quiet boy splattered with freckles and topped with carrot hair, another to a chattering girl caked in makeup and expensive perms. And then to himself in wordless accusation. Himself with his narrow, spitting eyes. Himself with his crouched and tight spine, hunched over to sing to the crowd. Himself with his tart tongue and bright cheeks, glowing with exhilaration.

_Sweet lovely death  
I am waiting for your breath  
Come sweet death, one last caress_

Some boys in varsity jackets scowled at the lyrics, faces turning dark and bruised. They pushed through the crowd, making their way to Naruto's makeshift pedestal. The four of them screamed obscenities at the boy who continued to sing regardless, his voice becoming even more luminous, even more biting. His song passed over their shouts, bending over their heads like a holy message from some far-away deity. It became even more coarse, even more vicious, even more hurt and angry and sorrowful and laughing and disgusted. And in the end, everyone in the hall knew that it was for them that Naruto was singing for, those four boys dressed in blue and orange, cheeks and hearts hollow, faces sharp and sinfully angled. And they knew too, which made them all the more angry.

_Sweet lovely death  
I am waiting for your breath  
Come sweet death, one last caress_

They began shaking the table, causing Naruto to waver in his balance, almost falling. They started to claw feverishly at him, eventually pulling him down like revolutionaries against a figurehead. The blond gave a cry as fists rained down on him. He coughed as a kick found his ribs, his body cringing in pain. But he didn't fight back, instead he merely curled into a ball, all his energies used to keep living, keep breathing. And then he heard a cry as a snap of knuckle against bone sounded through the corridor. That was followed by a scream as he heard the dull impact of a kick. He looked up from his position to find Gaara standing over him, emerald eyes for once alive and lustrous and sorely malicious and twisted. He watched as the redhead's face cracked to show the gruesome red of grotesque smile. The sight sent shivers down Naruto's spine; and yet, he was entranced.

Teachers rushed to the scene to pull the five of them apart: four bruised and torn boys with wounded prides and one with a broken nose and a wiggling redhead with fists still itching for the fight. Naruto crawled out of his spot under the table and stared in awe at the damaged boys and at Gaara who only sported a single scratch on his cheek.

"You boys will be coming with us," said one stern teacher. "That includes you, Mr. Uzumaki."

---------------

"Jesus Christ, Naruto," shouted the principal, slamming her fists against the table in disbelief. "You got on top of a table and sang a song about killing babies and raping mothers?"

"Yes?" offered the blond weakly. He smiled apologetically at the woman who towered over him ominously, wincing at the soreness on his cheek.

"Yes what?" shouted the principal. Her brown eyes radiated a split message of compassion and duty, shifting to the door every few seconds, ever mindful of the secretary eavesdropping outside. It was obvious that she wanted to forgive the battered boy, but she knew that protocol forbid her from it. A woman sporting a harsh bun covered with graying hairs glared into the office, causing them both to wince.

"Yes ma'am?" replied Naruto meekly. He looked at the woman with her catty glasses and wrinkles, recognizing her as the mother of one of the football players. The stern woman glowered at his direction and turned away, denying his existence. Naruto slouched further in his seat, hoping to disappear from view altogether.

"Don't do it again, brat," growled the woman, though it sounded more like a defeated sigh. She was an imposing woman, standing tall and strong in her black suit which filled out well with her full figure. She walked confidently to the door where she closed the blinds. Then she reached over and ruffled the boy's messy hair affectionately.

"So," began the blond, eyes hopeful, "does it mean that I'm not going to be punished?"

"Hell no," laughed the woman, reveling in her power. Naruto's face fell and he groaned. "You've got detention for a week, starting today. Now get outta here."

The boy grumbled as he rose from the chair and made his way to the door. He shot the principal a sour look before turning the knob, already dreading the faces of the bruised and torn boys.

"Oh, and send Mr. Sabaku in too," called the principal from behind her desk. She was hunched behind her desk, sorting through her drawers for something, though, Naruto knew that she was taking a quick swig of whiskey before the next student came in. He rolled his eyes at the woman's behavior, though he couldn't blame her for yearning for the hot comfort of alcohol running down her throat.

"Yes," he said. He thought for a second before quickly adding, "Ma'am."

He twisted the knob and braced himself for the flood of florescent lighting and sullen Southern mothers tending to pouting athlete sons. He grimaced as everyone glared at him as if he were some grotesque escapee of a carnival show. Naruto stuffed his hands into his pockets and sank into himself, collapsing his stomach and walking like a hook, his eyes never leaving the ground. He saw Gaara, sitting in a corner with his arms crossed and eyes sharp as always. The rest of the boys stayed away from him as if he were the devil, clinging to the opposite of the room like sheep herding together against cold. The redhead looked at him with a questioning expression sitting in his lips.

"It's all you, Gaara," Naruto whispered as he stood before the boy. "Good luck, man."

He studied the texture of the carpet as he listened to the shuffle of fabrics and chains from Gaara: boots crusted with mud and laced to perfection shifted, dog collars clanged with the armor of his jacket, piercings swished through air. Naruto's heart sank as Gaara rose to his feet but didn't move, standing perfectly still before him. He knew that the redhead wanted answers, wanted an explanation, but his mouth was dry, his tongue caught. And somehow Gaara understood the silence, reading the cypher of his speechlessness.

"Naruto," said Gaara, "I'll join."

Naruto's head snapped up to look at the boy, to thank him, but it was already too late, Gaara had already disappeared into the office.

---------------

Naruto trudged through the mud, grumbling about hags and rednecks and spit wads and detention. He groaned as the boo kbag rubbed against a bruise on his rib and shifted the bag on his shoulder. He grimaced as he felt the bruise on his cheek grow and solidify, changing from a swollen red to a monstrous green-yellow. He licked the scab on his lip, wincing at the metallic taste of blood. He sighed as he saw the blood staining his shirt in dark botches and rubbed his neck that had previously been coated with blood from his busted mouth. He walked with his face down and cursing, wishing that he could take time to sit and sleep.

"You look like shit," came a cool voice. Naruto lifted his head to find Sasuke leaning against his car with a cigarette hanging from his fingers, the smoke winding into the cloudy sky, blending with the gray clouds.

"What are you still doing at school?" asked the blond, too tired to think of a witty retort.

"Heard you got into a fight," replied Sasuke with a shrug. "Wanted to see how badly you got screwed up myself before you had the chance to go home and clean up."

"Shut the fuck up and give me a ride," growled Naruto as he flung open the passenger door and threw his backpack into the car carelessly. He collapsed into the leather seat and sulked in the wedge between the cushioned door and chair, his head pressed against the window. Sasuke scowled at him before sinking into the driver's seat.

"Apparently no please or thank you," mumbled Sasuke under his breath as he started the car. The lilting sound of Red Hot Chili Peppers filled the car, carrying the soothing sounds of smooth basslines and mellow guitar to Naruto's ear. His muscles unwound like springs as the music tended to his wounds and his face softened.

_Scar tissue that I wish you saw  
Sarcastic mister know it all  
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause  
With the birds I'll share  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view_

Naruto opened his mouth in an almost-purr as his cares seemed to slip from his body. Sasuke studied Naruto as he drove, his own muscles relaxing, his anxiety fading. He watched as the blond began nodding to sleep, head tilting forward, then backwards, hands gripping the sides of the door as if he were falling. Naruto's golden locks fell into his eyes, not in a rumpled way, but in an innocent way. His skin shone in an honest ginger, his cheeks rosy in a natural pink. Sasuke's right hand ghosted the chords over the steering wheel as he fell into a comfortable silence.

_Push me up against the wall  
Young Kentucky girl in a push-up bra  
Fallin' all over myself  
To lick your heart and taste you health 'cause  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view_

"Gaara's going to join the band, Sasuke," whispered Naruto as his jewel eyes slid closed. "Everything's going to be all right."

"Yeah," whispered Sasuke in return as Naruto fell into a deep sleep. "Yeah."

_Soft spoken with a broken jaw  
Step outside but not to brawl  
Autumn's sweet we call it fall  
I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl and  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view  
With the birds I'll share  
This lonely view _


	8. Chapter 8

------------------

**Cracks in the Sidewalk **

**part viii**

------------------

The first rehearsal was a complete and utter failure--a failure that was accompanied by a theme song of Sasuke playing Radiohead while Gaara played the Sex Pistols. The neighbors pitched in too by banging bitter knocks of their fists on the front door. A more intellectual individual would have called the ruckus Dada; Naruto simply called it horseshit.

"You guys can't both play at once," said Naruto over the noise.

"What, you expect me to play that softy bullshit your friend Sauce-gay plays?" said Gaara with a malevolent snap of teeth. He glowered at Naruto for interrupting.

"As if punk rock has any substance to it," said Sasuke. "And it's Sasuke, douche bag."

It was rare for Naruto to find himself in the company of peers less mature than himself. The whole experience of Sasuke, Gaara, and himself in the same living room together was bending his brain in ways it shouldn't.

"Punk rock is a man's music," said Gaara.

"You mean a pubescent, whining man's music," said Sasuke.

"God, just shut the fuck up, both of you!" said Naruto.

"You shut the fuck up," said Gaara. Gaara slipped the bass over his head and set the instrument down. The thing was a solid black boulder of an instrument that resembled a blunt object a Mafioso would use on an antagonist named 'Vinny.' Gaara glared at both Naruto and Sasuke through eyeliner eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm sick of this bullshit. I'm leaving."

"Good riddance," said Sasuke.

"What?" said Naruto, mortified. "Wait! It's only our first time meeting each other; of course it's not going to be perfect."

"It's never going to be perfect," said Gaara as he packed his instrument in its case.

"Okay, so Sasuke is an asshole sometimes--or all the time--but that doesn't mean he can't have his moments--just wait 'till you hear him play," said Naruto

"I have, he sucks," said Gaara.

Naruto ignored Gaara and continued. "Plus, you'll bring amazing energy to the band!"

"The amazing energy is you and we call it cocaine," said Sasuke.

"The man has a point," said Gaara, picking up his case. "Have a nice life."

"Okay, see? You guys can be unified through hatred of me," said Naruto. He trembled a little in desperation. "It's helped this town before, it can help us out right?" Naruto laughed a nervous laugh that was wholly unconvincing of his sarcasm. "There's really nothing hating me won't solve!"

The effect of sympathy on his companions was a decided zero.

Gaara rolled his eyes and Sasuke muttered something about melodrama. Naruto should have known. They were both assholes. Naruto had only one option left:

Groveling.

Naruto threw himself to Gaara's feet and latched himself to Gaara's ankles like a giant squid.

"Please, please, please stay," said Naruto, his voice close to wailing. More neighbors pounded on the door.

"Let the bastard go," said Sasuke as he put down his own instrument. "It's not like he could play half a shit anyway."

"What did you just say?" said Gaara. He whipped around and stared long and hard at Sasuke, challenging him to say the words again.

"I said you couldn't play a shit if your life depended on it," said Sasuke.

Gaara shook Naruto off of his shins and threw himself at Sasuke. Naruto watched as the living room quickly disintegrated into a mess of punches, kicks, grappling, and pulled hairs. Naruto got the eerie feeling he was in an animal house and he was just another paying spectator. It was actually quite amusing; Naruto wished he had brought popcorn.

Sasuke had his head wedged in Gaara's armpit when he said, "Well then prove you can play, you fucking cunt."

"Oh, I'll play," said Gaara as Sasuke's fist collided with his jaw. "I'll show you how it's fucking done."

Naruto was apparently wrong about the unifying powers of hate, in reality what really drove interpersonal relations was violence--lots and lots and violence.

The two boys sprang apart like repelling magnets and grabbed their instruments. Sasuke donned his guitar while Gaara unclasped the case and pulled out his inner-city weapon. Naruto was amazed at what testosterone could do to some people. He swallowed slowly and clapped his hands with nervous optimism.

"So," Naruto said, "what are we going to play?"

"Name it," said Sasuke, his words sharp and poisonous.

"Um," said Naruto, uncomfortable. "The Clash?"

"What song?" spat Gaara, impatient.

"London Calling?" said Naruto, worried for his personal safety.

The two started playing as if they were merely two parts of a whole, the opening strums of the song falling in perfect time with each other. Gaara played with a vigor that could only be described as crazed vengeance, while Sasuke played with something akin to blistering determination. Naruto felt the electricity zip across the room and soon he became invigorated and energetic as well. His body rushed into animation like a puppet propelled by some invisible hand. He bobbed on the balls of his feet and swung his head back and forth to the metronome of guitar and bass.

Naruto waited with bottled anticipation for Gaara's deviation from the strum; he went wild when he heard Gaara play the prelude for the vocals.

_London calling to the faraway towns  
Now that war is declared--and battle come down  
London calling to the underworld  
Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls_

Naruto sang to Gaara and Sasuke with an exaggerated Johnny Rotten drawl that filled his mouth and slipped through the cracks of their rivalry. Gaara's lips curled in devious excitement as Naruto showed his true colors--the same colors that painted the school a demonic red. Naruto pushed himself against Gaara so his face was craned close enough for Gaara to make out the white of his eyes.

_London calling, now don't look to us  
All that phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust  
London calling, see we ain't got no swing  
'Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing_

Gaara howled when Naruto mentioned 'Beatlemania.' He slid Sasuke a defiant glare and played his notes with more vigor. Gaara swung as he played his ominous tune. His notes echoed through the living room like a herald for anarchy. Gaara mouthed the words to the song in apparent ecstasy.

_The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in  
Engines stop running and the wheat is growing thin  
A nuclear error, but I have no fear  
London is drowning-and I live by the river_

Naruto then moved to Sasuke and let out a series of hell-hound yells expected of future stanzas, but he just couldn't be bothered to hold the eerie cries back. This brought a smile to Sasuke's face--a rare sliver of a thing. Naruto started banging his head back and forth and he encouraged Sasuke to do the same. He yowled in delight when Sasuke complied.

_London calling-and I don't wanna shout  
But when we were talking-I saw you nodding out  
London calling, see we ain't got no highs  
Except for that one with the yellowy eyes_

Sasuke roared into his guitar solo with blazing fingers. Naruto saw Gaara nodding in appreciation of Sasuke's passion and smiled. It was going to be okay after all. Naruto noticed Sasuke filled out the exhibition with a flourish of skills. Naruto let out a trail of animalistic howls. Gaara joined in his wails with crude lavish.

_Now get this  
London calling, yeah, I was there, too  
An' you know what they said? Well, some of it was true!  
London calling at the top of the dial  
After all this, won't you give me a smile?_

They were all sharing the same love then, like some strange breaking of bread in which they all gained some piece of ancient immortality. They all drank the same liquor. They weren't acting themselves anymore. Music took over every vibration, every inflection of their being. Naruto threw his bead back and laughed as the song ended.

_I never felt so much a'like_

------------------ _  
_

"That was great!" said Naruto with a swing of his arms. They were sitting around the coffee table drinking much-needed water. Sweat was pouring down their shirts, making stains in the fabrics--but none of them minded much. They were all still high on the moment of empathy that had transcended their limbs and animated their souls. It had been exhilarating.

"It wasn't too shoddy," said Gaara.

"Shoddy?" said Naruto, his eyes large as saucers. "It was wonderful! I feel great!"

"We don't have a drummer," said Sasuke. He took a sip of his water. "It's problematic regardless of what kind of music you're playing."

Gaara nodded in silent agreement.

"Well," said Naruto, leaning back to think. "I think I know someone." He reached for the phone in flubbery glee. Sasuke rolled his eyes.

------------------

Shikamaru had the horrible experience of waking up before two o'clock in the afternoon on a Saturday. His mother was banging on the door in her usual fascist way, screaming about something ringing. Shikamaru reached for the alarm clock first. But no, it was Saturday. He looked at the clock instead. It was one o'clock in the afternoon.

Shikamaru grumbled as he pulled himself from his blankets. He looked around and noted the sun had just reached a little past overhead and his blinds were casting slanted shadows over his desk. Indeed, it was probably one o'clock in the afternoon; on a Saturday.

He tumbled out of his bed in agitated clumsiness, stepping on a mess of chess pieces that had fallen from his lap the night before. He groaned as he picked the soldiers from his sole. He sat on his bed for a couple of seconds, shaking his head to rouse the sleep from his head. His mother was still banging on the door.

Shikamaru finally got up and opened the door. A phone was immediately shoved into his face. He mumbled his thanks as he took the offending object and closed his door.

He placed the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he said. "What do you want?"

He heard someone familiar, but not familiar enough for him to like, on the other end.

"It's one in the fucking afternoon."

The voice on the other end mimicked the same words that had just left his mouth in an accusatory manner. Shikamaru glared at his clock. It was still too early for this.

He listened to the stream of blubbery excitement that spewed from the other end with tested patience, his eyes drooping a little more every second the other boy rambled on. It was a Saturday.

Shikamaru was usually quite brilliant at grasping concepts the first time he was told, but it was only have the fourth repetition of the day and time that snapped him to the attention. A travesty was being committed.

Shikamaru cut the other boy off mid-sentence.

"No. Shut up. Go away. Bye."

Shikamaru shut the phone off and proceeded to fall back into bed. However, his head had only been on the mattress for a couple of seconds before the phone screamed its shrill protest again. He was determined to ignore it.

Until his mother started banging on the door again.

"I've got it," said Shikamaru with a malicious snap of his teeth.

He picked the phone up again and said with blurred haste, "Fine. God you're a pain in the ass. I'll be there tomorrow--five o'clock. Just leave me the fuck alone."

Shikamaru pressed the off button with relish before evaporating into the depths of unconsciousness again.


End file.
